


Canidae

by kettish



Series: Pup [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Puppy Play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-08
Updated: 2017-12-08
Packaged: 2019-02-12 05:42:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12952545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kettish/pseuds/kettish
Summary: Obi-Wan has a rather unique method of stress relief. Qui-Gon walks in on him in the middle of it.





	Canidae

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for the few people who reached out and encouraged me to post this! I worry sometimes that I'm writing something uh...*too* niche. But this was a blast to write and I hope y'all enjoy it as much as I did!
> 
> Thanks to sanerontheinside for cheerleading and the super-quick last-minute look-over. XD

When Obi-Wan was young and an Initiate in the creche, he saw a dog.

 

Dogs, actual mammalian canines, were rare in the galaxy these days, though history had it that once they were fairly common. Now they were hard to find. Special recovery efforts had been underway for nearly a century and their numbers were recovering, but it was slow work--canines came in several variants that enthusiasts were reluctant to lose, and so breeding had to be done carefully.

 

As Coruscant was the capital of the Republic, it was home to many extremely wealthy and affluent individuals, one of whom had a special interest in the canine breeding project. Hral Hraman, owner of the company that produced a popular brand of ration bars, approached the Temple one day with an offer.

 

“It’s the least I can do, after you pinpointed the spot in my shipping chain that was being raided,” he told Master Yoda. “And it is good for the dogs, as well--they don’t often have a chance to be around this many younglings.”

 

“Obedient, these animals are,” Yoda noted, “and friendly. Glad I am to see them in good health, and give the younglings a chance to meet them.” 

 

Ser Hraman smiled proudly over the small Master at the enclosed yard and the animals and tiny beings filling it. A group of younglings crowded at a respectful distance from a mother and her roly-poly pups as the pups yapped and wrestled, climbing over her and tussling. 

 

In other parts of the yard, Initiates played with the dogs or pet them; some threw balls to play fetch, others rubbed a happy canine’s tummy and laughed as its leg kicked. Initiate Kenobi seemed particularly entranced, running around with one of the dogs as they played chase and keep-away with a stuffed toy, and Yoda smiled.

 

“Good for them, this is,” he decided. “Seen these younglings so carefree, I have not in quite some time. Welcome you are to bring the canines back regularly.” Ser Hraman beamed, and they stood and enjoyed watching laughing children and barking, playing puppies for quite some time.

  
  


Obi-Wan saw the dogs a few more times before he was taken as a Padawan, but when Ser Hraman passed away unexpectedly the man who took over the canine recovery program moved them away from Coruscant for tax purposes. Obi-Wan was broken-hearted over it; he’d always felt a particular...kinship with the animals, and at peace in a way he rarely felt when sitting still. But there were more important matters to attend, like his training, his apprenticeship to the great Master Jinn, and to be quite frank, puberty.

 

It was years later--maybe a decade, even, or more--when Obi-Wan remembered the dogs again. It had been a bad campaign on yet another war-torn world, invaded by the Separatists and there had been an inordinate amount of civilian casualties before the Republic troops had even arrived. Obi-Wan was tired, tired beyond belief, tired beyond grief even, and wanted nothing more than to stop thinking. Just stop thinking and be someone else, something else, something that didn’t have to worry about the ethics of occupation or war-time rationing or anything.

 

“Should’ve been born a dog,” Obi-Wan mumbled, face down on the bed, and sighed. 

 

A dog could just...curl up and go to sleep. No worries. 

 

...Cody had said he had everything in hand, hadn’t he? Obi-Wan’s brow furrowed thoughtfully. And he wasn’t due to report until noon the next day, yes? So he could just…

 

Obi-Wan finished removing his armor and changed into bed clothes. Then, feeling foolish but compelled by something he didn’t understand, he climbed onto the bed on all fours. The puppies he remembered had all curled up together or had made a nest of soft material, so he pawed the blankets into a rough bed. Then, with a sigh, he let himself fall to his side on top of it, imagining himself a dog. Just a tired dog, tired from playing all day, from nothing awful and terrifying and nightmarish at all. Just a dog, dreaming dog dreams.

 

He slept, dreamless, and woke feeling refreshed.

 

After that, Obi-Wan had taken to his imaginary role more often in his spare time. If he knew Anakin was with Padme, and he had no work to do, and when the stress was hardest and he thought he’d break down and cry--instead, he’d strip down, put on his collar, and get away from himself for a while. The collar served as a cue for him, signifying a beginning and end to his sessions. These breaks were exactly what he needed on a base level, and he enjoyed them, finding that the world was interesting and new as a pup.

 

He brought his collar with him on campaigns, loath to be without it even though logically he knew he could engage in his pastime whether he had it or not. It helped, and was frankly reassuring; he could reach into his pouch pocket and touch it, reminding himself  that it wouldn’t always be so hard and that there would be time to let it go later on.

 

It was late at night after a shared campaign with Anakin and Qui-Gon that Obi-Wan followed his usual ritual. His reports had been filed, despite his exhaustion. Anakin was asleep following a massive expenditure of Force energy, and Qui-Gon would be in his rooms readying for bed. With a relieved sigh, Obi-Wan took off his clothes and put them in the wash, where they’d be clean by morning, and fished his collar out. 

 

Snapping it on was immediately relaxing, and Obi-Wan sighed happily and then stretched out his front ‘paws’ with a contented whine. After a while lounging on the bed, he became bored, and hopped off the bed. The only other item he allowed himself for this was a sock, an old one with a hole in it that was due to be recycled anyway; Obi-Wan had tied a knot in it like he remembered some of the dog toys had been, and that’s what he went looking for now. It was stowed in his bag with the other socks. 

 

His bag was on the floor next to his bed, and he gripped it with his teeth, shaking it a little now and then to encourage it to open. That didn’t work, so he dug at it instead, paws moving in the direction of the zipper, and that was better. Soon it was spilled open on the floor and he sorted through the socks with his nose until he found the one he was looking for.

 

He barked triumphantly, nothing more than a sharp woof that wouldn’t penetrate the walls of his quarters, and grabbed it up with his teeth to give it a little shake. He gave another quiet, happy woof at finding his toy and pondered whether he felt more like shredding it or tossing it about.

 

The front door to his quarters beeped as the override code was inputted and swished open a bare ten feet from where he crouched. Qui-Gon strode in, his face in a datapad and already speaking.

 

“Apologies Obi-Wan, there are some numbers conflicting in your report here, and I need to resolve them before I--” he looked up, spotted Obi-Wan on all fours on the floor with just his underclothes and a collar on and a sock in his mouth, and stopped.

 

Obi-Wan stared at him with wide eyes, feeling as though his ears ought to be pinning back in blank fear, and in a moment of panic he opened his mouth to explain and--nothing but a tiny whimper came out.

 

Qui-Gon stared at him in shock. Obi-Wan struggled to get his mind back from puppy headspace to where it needed to be, but it was like swimming in syrup, and all he managed to do was scramble back to sit on his butt and snatch the sock out of his mouth. 

 

His former Master, whom he was in love with, had stumbled upon him crawling around on all fours like a child with a sock in his mouth. Panic clogged Obi-Wan’s throat and tears burned, and Obi-Wan forcibly sucked them both back down and prepared to face the humiliation that he knew was coming.

 

“Are you--” Qui-Gon began, then squinted at him to look more closely. “Is that a collar?”

 

Obi-Wan swallowed hard, but still couldn’t find words. He nodded once, drawing in on himself and looking away from Qui-Gon in unintentional further mimicry of a canine. He couldn’t bear to see the disappointment or revulsion in Qui-Gon’s eyes and he stared off blankly to the side and down. The air in his cabin, which had previously been comfortable, chilled his skin now and he fought not to shiver miserably.

 

Qui-Gon had to be staring at him still--he could feel the older man’s gaze burning into him. Obi-Wan hadn’t heard him move, and it was like Qui-Gon to try and understand before speaking. Obi-Wan felt frustration and shame and fear building, and before he could help himself he’d whined just once, tiny and thin in the back of his throat. He cleared his throat to try and cover it before Qui-Gon could hear.

 

“Is that a sock? What are you doing with a sock?” Qui-Gon said. Obi-Wan shifted away from it guiltily. His Master had taught him to never waste Temple-issued supplies, which was almost everything Jedi worked with on a regular basis...but the sock was old, and had a hole, and Obi-Wan figured the quartermaster would just recycle it. 

 

Qui-Gon looked down at him for a minute more, then his face softened, and sat down.

 

That was unexpected. Obi-Wan snuck a look at him from his peripheral vision and saw Qui-Gon’s relaxed face and shoulders. His back, usually straight, was also relaxed, and he sat with his legs crossed and his forearms resting against his knees. Qui-Gon discarded the data pads, setting them away from him on the floor, then sat back. Minutes passed as they each observed quietly, and Obi-Wan continued to study him surreptitiously until Qui-Gon spoke.

 

“Are you playing with the sock?” Qui-Gon asked, and Obi-Wan’s eyes darted to the sock and then back at Qui-Gon, looking at him openly. Qui-Gon’s tone was familiar but difficult for Obi-Wan to place, in part because it had never been aimed at him before. It was the tone of voice Qui-Gon used when speaking to small, frightened animals. The realization brought him up short and his eyebrows shot up, eyes wide as he looked at Qui-Gon.

 

“Bring me the sock,” Qui-Gon coaxed, patting his thigh, and Obi-Wan’s brain shorted out. He stared at Qui-Gon, trying to decide what to do. The voice Qui-Gon was speaking in encouraged him back towards the relaxed simplicity of the canine headspace he’d been inhabiting when Qui-Gon burst in, but it was difficult to let go and be this open around others.

 

“Come here, boy,” Qui-Gon continued to croon, and Obi-Wan thought of all the things he’d trusted Qui-Gon with before: his training and his future, his health and wellbeing...his life…

 

Carefully, cautiously, Obi-Wan leaned forward and onto his haunches, hands curled into paws under him. One paw forward, then the other, forearms and thighs flexed as he shifted. He kept an eye on Qui-Gon’s reaction the entire time, waiting for the flicker of disgust or cruel amusement he feared. None came, and he swallowed hard, took a deep breath, and then dipped his head down to take the sock up again in his teeth.

 

“Good boy,” Qui-Gon praised him, and Obi-Wan tried not to wiggle in an approximation of wagging a tail he didn’t have. He failed, couldn’t help it in the face of praise and affirmation, and instead stayed on all fours, tense and trying not to appear over-eager.

 

Qui-Gon looked at him with a smile and waited. Obi-Wan felt caught, unsure, but Qui-Gon was encouraging him in this, had called him a good boy...he allowed himself a quiet whine, trying to ask what Qui-Gon wanted.

 

“Do you want to play?” Qui-Gon asked, and Obi-Wan couldn’t have helped himself if he’d tried. He barked, the sound muffled through the sock in his mouth, and spanked the ground with his front paws, returning the invitation to play.

 

“You do?” Qui-Gon laughed, and Obi-Wan wiggled with further delight at the happiness in his voice. “Bring it here, silly pup!”

 

Obi-Wan bounded forward on hands and knees and shook the sock intently a moment. Looking at Qui-Gon hopefully, his ass moving back and forth as he wagged, he chuffed. Qui-Gon smiled and reached out a hand to take the sock. Obi-Wan hopped to the side, growling a taunt, and then crouched down low with his butt high again. 

 

“Going to be like that, are you,” Qui-Gon accused, and Obi-Wan woofed a quiet affirmative. 

 

“Don’t make me come get that sock. I’m going to come get it if you don’t give it here,” Qui-Gon warned. Obi-Wan’s smile stretched out wide as he growled and chuffed, and Qui-Gon dove after him. Laughing, he missed, and Obi-Wan skittered away as Qui-Gon swiped at him again. Another miss, but now Qui-Gon had moved from a seated position, and he managed to flash a hand out to latch onto the sock toy.

 

“Got it!” Qui-Gon said triumphantly, and an instant later, “Ah, shavit--” as Obi-Wan snapped forward astoundingly fast and yanked it back out of Qui-Gon’s grip.

 

“My goodness, you’re good at that,” Qui-Gon said, impressed, and then leaned back onto his hands. Obi-Wan stilled, waiting for him to reach for the sock again, and then shook it at him enticingly. There was no reaction from Qui-Gon beyond a chuckle. Obi-Wan got frustrated and barked, then crawled over and with a sheepish look dropped the sock to the floor by Qui-Gon’s hand.

 

“You’re a good boy,” Qui-Gon told him, and reached up to pet him. Obi-Wan’s eyes closed and he went utterly still, the breath leaving him all at once as Qui-Gon gently scratched his scalp. Qui-Gon watched him tenderly, wondering, and kept at it for a few minutes. When he stopped, Obi-Wan stayed there on all fours before registering that the petting had stopped. Bleary, Obi-Wan forced his eyes open and looked up at Qui-Gon with a heartbreakingly hopeful stare and wilted when Qui-Gon didn’t immediately begin petting him again.

 

“Come here,” Qui-Gon murmured with a sigh, seeing his disappointment, and patted his own thigh. Obi-Wan cautiously crept over and rested his chin on Qui-Gon’s knee, looking up at him questioningly with blue-green eyes. Qui-Gon chuckled and began massaging his scalp again, and Obi-Wan’s eyes slid closed. He crowded closer to Qui-Gon, curling up, and the tension drained out of his body slowly. The tightness in his shoulders and back gradually relaxed, and Qui-Gon watched as the muscles softened.

 

After some time, Qui-Gon’s body reminded him he was no longer a young man, and that a floor was no place for him to be. He shifted, trying to get comfortable again, and Obi-Wan cracked an eye open to look up at him.

 

“Feeling better?” Qui-Gon asked gently, and Obi-Wan hesitated, then nodded.

 

“Thank you,” Obi-Wan whispered, voice rough. Qui-Gon leaned over to press a kiss to his forehead and then urged Obi-Wan to get up and follow him to the bed, where Obi-Wan immediately put his head back in Qui-Gon’s lap. His green-grey eyes stayed open this time, though a dreamy quality remained, and Qui-Gon sensed he was more capable of speech than before. He ran a comforting hand over Obi-Wan’s side, the skin soft and warm.

 

“Something you do often?” Qui-Gon asked, and Obi-Wan grumble-growled, then sighed.

 

“Sometimes,” he replied. “It’s...simpler. Easy.” Qui-Gon reached down with a large hand to tuck the hair back out of Obi-Wan’s face, then stroked his head.

 

“Fun, seems like,” Qui-Gon prompted, and Obi-Wan grinned.

 

“Yes. Boring sometimes, though--I get bored easily like that, and I don’t dare bring anything incriminating on mission,” he replied. Qui-Gon laughed.

 

“So, a sock,” Qui-Gon said, and Obi-Wan laughed quietly. “What do you do when you don’t have someone to play keep-away?” Obi-Wan was quiet, his mouth downturned at the bare edges in the slightest frown. Qui-Gon’s heart ached to see it suddenly where he’d been so happy moments ago.

 

“Nothing,” Obi-Wan said. “Chew on the sock a while, then curl up on the bed. Go to sleep.” The clenched, tight feeling in Qui-Gon’s chest doubled, and he suddenly leaned close to press his forehead against Obi-Wan’s, needing to comfort him.

 

“That sounds lonely,” Qui-Gon said. “You can come to my quarters next time.” Obi-Wan looked startled and heaved himself up to sit up next to Qui-Gon.

 

“You don’t mind?” Obi-Wan asked. Qui-Gon smiled, lips quirking wryly.

 

“You were adorable,” he said with a helpless shrug by way of explanation. Obi-Wan stared at him, eyes wide, and then leaned forward and kissed him soundly. Qui-Gon made a surprised sound and brought a hand up to Obi-Wan’s bare shoulder, pushing him away slightly to look at his face, and then pulled him back in and up onto his lap, kissing him more passionately than before.

 

They broke apart, breathless, and stared at each other before beginning to laugh. Obi-Wan tucked his head against Qui-Gon’s shoulder as they snorted and giggled until they got it out of their systems, and Qui-Gon curled an arm around him, pulling him closer to bury his face in Obi-Wan’s hair.

 

“Adorable,” Obi-Wan said, “nearly naked, crawling around with a sock in my mouth. Adorable.”

 

“You’re so indignant about it,” Qui-Gon laughed. Obi-Wan’s response was both succinct and extremely rude, and was spoken against the fabric of Qui-Gon’s tunics where Obi-Wan had tried to squirm closer.

 

“Because I can’t see how it’s true,” Obi-Wan argued. Qui-Gon snorted.

 

“And that’s why you sound so pleased about it?” he retorted, and Obi-Wan flushed dark.

 

“I just--” he stuttered, and Qui-Gon grinned.

 

“You’re a very cute puppy,” Qui-Gon repeated. Obi-Wan whined and shoved his head back down against Qui-Gon’s chest, but in the Force Qui-Gon could feel the pleasure that sparked and glowed warmly in Obi-Wan’s stomach. 

 

“Such a good boy,” Qui-Gon crooned, curious, and Obi-Wan whined again and--oh. Seated on Qui-Gon’s lap, Obi-Wan’s hips pressed forward momentarily before Obi-Wan checked himself once more, and Qui-Gon looked at Obi-Wan with obvious delight.

 

“Don’t say a word,” Obi-Wan muttered from Qui-Gon’s chest. Qui-Gon smiled, wide and hungry, and ran his hands up and down Obi-Wan’s back, watching him squirm. 

 

“But you’re such a good boy,” Qui-Gon said. Obi-Wan grumbled but couldn’t bring himself to move away from the sensation of warmth and pressure on his skin. He was being petted, and he was so rarely touched at all, much less skin-to-skin, and never by someone who knew about his deviancy.

 

“Good pups deserve toys, don’t they?” Qui-Gon continued. His voice was low and warm in Obi-Wan’s ear as his hands moved down further and further with each pass. “You like to play. You should have toys.”

 

Obi-Wan whined, mouth firmly shut to keep from panting. This wasn’t something they’d ever discussed; Qui-Gon had shown so few signs he’d be receptive to sex or romance. He was so focused now though, so obviously desiring, that there was no way for Obi-Wan to misunderstand. He shifted in Qui-Gon’s lap; yes, since Qui-Gon carried his ‘saber on his hip, there was no way to mistake the master’s response on a visceral level.

 

Qui-Gon’s hand finally smoothed over the fabric of Obi-Wan’s underclothes, and they both groaned softly at the feel of rough hands on firm muscle. It was so good, and it snapped Obi-Wan out of his daze. With a grunt he went back to kissing Qui-Gon, feeling those thin lips move against his own, the scratch of beard against beard dizzying. Qui-Gon pulled away after long moments to groan and pull Obi-Wan’s hips against his own, grinding up against him and drawing out the wave of pleasure it created.

 

Obi-Wan gasped through it, then placed a sucking kiss against Qui-Gon’s jaw, licking it clean of excess saliva with the flat of his tongue before moving on to the next spot and moving down Qui-Gon’s neck. It was divine, like coming home despite its newness, and he couldn’t get enough. He bit gently, applying suction afterwards to soothe it, and licked his way back up to a spot below Qui-Gon’s ear that turned out to be very sensitive.

 

“Oh! Oh,” Qui-Gon gasped, “Gods, Obi-Wan, you’re going to kill me.” Obi-Wan considered whether that was a valid supposition for a moment before deciding that since Qui-Gon was still holding Obi-Wan’s head tight to his neck, he was probably exaggerating. 

 

“You about killed me--walking in like that--” Obi-Wan panted, and Qui-Gon laughed, yanking Obi-Wan in with an arm around his ass and his neck. He tucked Obi-Wan in under his chin, in the warm space between his neck and clavicle.

 

“I am so glad I did,” Qui-Gon told him and pulled back to kiss Obi-Wan’s temple, his forehead, the space between his eyebrows, the bridge of his nose. Obi-Wan laughed, the tension between them easing enough for him to be mindful of the moment in a way that would insure his memory of it later.

 

“You need a tail, pup,” Qui-Gon growled playfully, squeezing a handful of Obi-Wan’s ass. Obi-Wan wheezed, surprised, and Qui-Gon’s chuckles rumbled in the space between them. “What kind of tail would you have, hm? Something fluffy? Or are you scaled, like an akk dog?”

 

“Force, no,” Obi-Wan snorted. “Hmm…” He took a moment, pretending to think as he slipped his hands down and found the ties for Qui-Gon’s tunic, undoing them so the material slipped off of his shoulders with an easy push. 

 

“Fluffy, yes,” Obi-Wan decided. Qui-Gon rubbed his cheek against Obi-Wan’s as they pressed close, feeling their chest touch bare against each other for the first time.

 

“You decided all this long ago, I’m sure,” Qui-Gon said, and Obi-Wan flushed with a small grin.

 

“Yes,” was his only reply. Qui-Gon made a thoughtful noise, reaching around Obi-Wan to slowly drag his palm down his back to the cleft of his ass, where he stroked a thumb along the crack.

 

“You need a tail, and a toy. I believe I know how you could have both,” Qui-Gon said, and purposefully ran his thumb across Obi-Wan’s entrance.

 

“They--they make those,” Obi-Wan said, swallowing hard. He hadn’t blushed this hard or been this flustered in years, since his first few forays into sex. It was mildly irritating and majorly exasperating that Qui-Gon had managed to reduce him to this state. At the same time, it felt right--Qui-Gon was now privy to one of Obi-Wan’s deepest secrets. It made sense that Obi-Wan would be on edge.

 

“Would you want one?” Qui-Gon asked, and then leaned down to nibble and suck on Obi-Wan’s nipple without warning. 

 

“Bastard!” Obi-Wan gasped without any real rancor. Qui-Gon hummed in acknowledgement and continued what he was doing. Obi-Wan tried to give some thought to the idea of having a tail to play with, something to wag that would brush against his back and ass while he played, something that would let him act more like a real pup, and realized he didn’t really need to think about it at all.

 

“Yes, definitely,” he said and scooted back a little to reach for Qui-Gon’s pants. Qui-Gon rewarded him by letting him go and instead straightening up to kiss him deeply, their tongues sliding against each other as Qui-Gon slid a hand into Obi-Wan’s hair. 

 

“What else?” Qui-Gon asked, “Ears? Treats? A leash?” Obi-Wan shivered, finally understanding that Qui-Gon had a point to his questioning, but unsure what it would be.

 

“Yes, all of it,” Obi-Wan said, finally managing to undo the last fastening on Qui-Gon’s pants. He came up to kneeling and pushed Qui-Gon back, then began quickly tugging the reluctant garment off. It finally slid free of Qui-Gon’s thighs and Qui-Gon kicked them off the rest of the way before pulling Obi-Wan down to lay on top of him.

 

They kissed for long, leisurely minutes, exploring each other’s taste and preferences. It was a delight to discover Obi-Wan’s weakness for the scratch of beard against beard, and the startled pleasure Qui-Gon broadcast when Obi-Wan sucked on his tongue lightly. But it was a plateau they couldn’t maintain for long, and soon things began to heat once more. Qui-Gon’s grip on Obi-Wan’s hip and shoulder tightened, and Obi-Wan pressed down against him as though trying to sink into Qui-Gon’s body by force. 

 

“Please say you’ll fuck me,” Obi-Wan finally managed to string the words together between grinding their erections together, and Qui-Gon groaned. Such coarse language wasn’t totally unheard of, from Obi-Wan, but it was definitely saved for special occasions. This was the first time Qui-Gon could recall hearing it in a positive manner. 

 

“I would very much like that,” Qui-Gon agreed fervently. “Lubricant?” 

 

“Drawer,” Obi-Wan grunted, and then moved off of him to retrieve it with a growl of frustration when he realized Qui-Gon couldn’t. Qui-Gon watched with appreciation as Obi-Wan leaned over the side of the bed and ripped the deepest bedside drawer open and rummaged around loudly. Head down and ass up he presented a lovely landscape, and an idea formed in Qui-Gon’s head. Finally Obi-Wan located what he was looking for in a back corner. Turning halfway he shook the bottle gently at Qui-Gon with a triumphant, “Ha!”

 

In an instant Qui-Gon had rolled up and covered Obi-Wan from behind, his heavy frame pressed tight against Obi-Wan’s back. Obi-Wan shuddered at the insistent hardness pushing against his ass and the heat of Qui-Gon’s skin against his own. Qui-Gon mouthed at Obi-Wan’s shoulder, scraped his teeth against the muscle and growled. Vibrations teased Obi-Wan all along the length of his back where Qui-Gon held him tight and he shuddered again at the intensity of the sensation.

 

“Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon rumbled. Obi-Wan whined and tried to get his hands on Qui-Gon, then grunted in frustration when Qui-Gon held him fast with an arm around his waist. 

 

“Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon repeated, “do you want me to fuck you?” Obi-Wan stilled, then pushed his hips back firmly, trying to convey his response. In his head, this had all meshed--his play earlier, the way Qui-Gon was on him now, and the need that ran through them both. It muted him, save the animalistic noises he allowed himself during play, and he hoped fervently that it was enough.

 

“Do you want me to fuck you, Obi-Wan? Fold you over here, stretch you open, and mount you?” Qui-Gon breathed. One of his large hands slid up and pinched one of Obi-Wan’s nipples, then the other, alternating until the response he received plateaued. 

 

“Answer me, Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon ordered, and now his free hand was moving down across Obi-Wan’s stomach to his cock and, oh, oh that was good, that was--Qui-Gon stopped, holding Obi-Wan still. 

 

“Answer me. Do you want me to mount you?” Obi-Wan whined, unable to do more, unwilling to besides, and then did the best he could. He barked, once, desperately, and bent forward at the waist to raise his ass in the air in blatant offering.

 

Please, please! his body language said. Qui-Gon eyed him with approval and then sat back, releasing Obi-Wan slowly to let him know to stay where he was.

 

“Alright, pup,” Qui-Gon said, “stay there. Good owners make sure their pets are taken care of well.” He reached around Obi-Wan to where the lube had dropped and picked it up, then flipped open the cap and began the business of preparing Obi-Wan for entry. In the back of his nebulous thoughts, Obi-Wan decided it wasn’t business, it was art, and one Qui-Gon was very good at. A calloused thumb rubbed tantalizingly at Obi-Wan’s rim and pushed a little more inside with each pass, stretching him slowly and thoroughly. 

 

Obi-Wan tried to stay still, but he was going mad with the sensations Qui-Gon gave him, and he needed to move, to writhe, to at least touch his dick--! Qui-Gon’s finger withdrew, and a moment later a second returned with it, and Obi-Wan began to feel a stretch. It was so like stretching for sparring after having sat at his desk for too long, but with an erotic edge to the relief, and he voiced it with a howl, long, low, and quiet.

 

“Sshh, you’ll wake your men,” Qui-Gon chastised, and Obi-Wan squirmed and tried to do better. “There you are. You’re a good boy, aren’t you? You try so hard. My good boy.”

 

There was a moment in which Obi-Wan reflexively wriggled at that praise, but when he almost dislodged Qui-Gon’s fingers he stopped at once. Slowly he relaxed into the sensation, the floating-deep-now of being in the moment and simple for once instead of complicated and overwrought.

 

“There you are,” Qui-Gon murmured, using his other hand to caress Obi-Wan’s back in a sweeping motion, petting him as he pulled his fingers carefully from Obi-Wan’s hole. “Are you ready? Speak, Obi.” Obi-Wan huffed, embarrassed at the command, but also endeared by it, and then grunted an affirmative that Qui-Gon decided would do.

 

Qui-Gon pressed forward into tight, molten heat, short thrusts taking him further and further into Obi-Wan with each pass. It was glorious, and Obi-Wan’s low moan made it even more so; Obi-Wan gripped the sheets and shoved his hips back all of a sudden. Qui-Gon must have been just shy of his prostate and been teasing him. 

 

“No,” Qui-Gon scolded, and then laughed at Obi-Wan’s flat look. ‘Puppy’ or human, this man was not in the mood to be denied. It reassured Qui-Gon that Obi-Wan was still in there, not lost to this act completely, and he slid the last inch home into Obi-Wan’s welcoming sheath.

 

“Oh, yes,” Qui-Gon breathed, and set up a slow, easy rhythm. Below him, Obi-Wan laid his forehead against his arms, panting with each of Qui-Gon’s thrusts; Qui-Gon caught peeks of his beard from underneath when he leaned forward to nip and bite at Obi-Wan’s neck and shoulder.

 

Qui-Gon reached under Obi-Wan to find his erection weeping onto the sheets below, his balls drawing up already with no manual stimulation. It shocked him with arousal, that this man could be so excited by nothing more than Qui-Gon’s cock in his ass fucking him carefully. He palmed Obi-Wan’s balls, rubbing gently, and leaned forward to press his chest to Obi-Wan’s back more fully.

 

“Can you get off just from this?” he asked, trying to be gentle and polite and all the things Obi-Wan deserved from a lover. Obi-Wan whimpered in reply with a needy tone in his voice and thrust back more forcefully into Qui-Gon’s thrust, which Qui-Gon took as a ‘yes,’ and ‘more please.’ 

 

“Then that’s what you’ll do,” Qui-Gon said, and began to move faster. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled their ears and the air was driven out of Obi-Wan’s lungs with each thrust, Qui-Gon pounding away at his ass with conviction. Qui-Gon bit down hard on his shoulder, marking him, dominating him. It was overwhelming Obi-Wan, the rising tide of pleasure threatening to drown him, and he went down gracefully under its waves as he came so hard he curled in on himself.

 

Qui-Gon slowed as soon as he felt the first spasms of Obi-Wan’s orgasm, sliding gently in and out in just the right way to draw it out for him as long as possible. When Obi-Wan gasped, overstimulated, Qui-Gon forced himself to still with titanic effort and knelt there, chest heaving as he tried to regain his breath and his control. 

 

Qui-Gon thought he’d be pulling out and that he’d be taking care of himself as soon as Obi-Wan could handle it, so he was surprised but very grateful when Obi-Wan hitched his hips back again and threw an arm back to grasp Qui-Gon’s hip and pull him forward. It was all the encouragement Qui-Gon needed, and he went back to that steady rhythm of before until Obi-Wan signalled he could go faster.

 

His orgasm crept up on him and ambushed him, leaving him no time to reconsider or put it off, and he pumped his semen into Obi-Wan as he kissed his back blindly, wet, open-mouthed kisses that allowed him to groan and breathe as he emptied himself.

 

They panted together for long minutes, Qui-Gon resting against Obi-Wan while Obi-Wan took his weight, and then Qui-Gon gently withdrew. Obi-Wan gasped, probably tender, and Qui-Gon reached down to push healing energy into the minor bruising and abrasions he’d inflicted. 

 

With a breathy sigh, Obi-Wan melted down onto the bed, Qui-Gon still on top of him, and they attempted to become one with the mattress for a while. 

  
  


Later, Qui-Gon woke to find Obi-Wan curled up against him, his nose to Qui-Gon’s chest, and he stroked his hair carefully away from Obi-Wan’s face. Obi-Wan woke slower than was his norm, blinking blearily up at Qui-Gon’s face, and then he smiled sweetly up at the older man. 

 

“I love you,” Obi-Wan said, the first words he’d said in Basic in hours, and Qui-Gon had to kiss him.

**Author's Note:**

> Want to know when I'm writing more? Follow me on tumblr! My username is kettish. :)


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